


Collected Shorts

by thegirlwiththemouseyhair



Category: Downton Abbey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 05:46:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1733282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwiththemouseyhair/pseuds/thegirlwiththemouseyhair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the title implies, this is a collection of short pieces - one sentence ficlets, drabbles and vignettes/short stories. Many were inspired by the "one sentence fic" prompt meme on Tumblr; many grew far beyond one sentence, though some are actually true to the meme. A few may be unrelated to any prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tito11 asked for: Thomas/Edward, anything with colour. This idea kept me awake the night before I wrote it and definitely could not be addressed in one sentence only.

Edward dreams of colours. He remembers blue skies over green lawns at Oxford, and the rich chestnut brown of Diana Fletcher’s hair. She was the daughter of Edward’s Greek tutor; he’d worshipped and burned for her for a term.

He remembers, also, the fire lighting Alex Murdoch’s red-gold hair and the gold threads of his navy waistcoat the first time he and Edward kissed – the first time Edward kissed a man. He’d been wide-eyed with fear. (If only he could be back there, before the trenches and the gas. He wishes he still had fear to waste on such little things.)

Thomas is kind to Edward, almost inexplicably kind, and his love is audible in the low tones of his voice. He was happy to describe himself when Edward asked – black hair, blue eyes, a little shorter than Edward. But it’s not the same without being able to  _see_ him.


	2. Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alittlewhos-this asked for: Thomas/Edward - Edward taking the lead (1st time or not).

  
They don’t have many opportunities to be physical with one another, between Edward’s depression and the stupid pretense of sleeping in different parts of the house – but it’s so worth it when they are, when Thomas can feel Edward gripping his shoulders, holding Thomas still for a moment and grappling with his own anxieties before letting something deep and passionate and instinctual take over, taking control ( _finally_ , Thomas thinks) and thrusting Thomas down onto the bed.   



	3. Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alittlewhos-this asked for: Edward trying to suss out what Thomas looks like.

Thomas’s breath catches in his throat as Edward brushes his thumb and fingers over Thomas’s jaw, up to the sharp line of his cheekbone and across the bridge of his nose, gently; he tells himself that it means nothing, just curiosity – Edward’s way of seeing what he looks like without  _actually_ being able to see him – but that warm touch means a great deal more to Thomas. 


	4. Catamount

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> irrationalgame asked for: Thommy, cuddles. Yes, I can write Thommy, although people seem to associate me with Thomas/Edward for some reason. Also, a catamount means a mountain lion or cougar. This piece dates from early on in the meme when I was actually trying to play by the "one sentence" rule.

"Don’t cry to me if you get scratched for pestering her," Thomas said, smiling rather smugly at Jimmy, who was cuddling their new cat to his shoulder and gaping at the catamount-worthy sound she had just let out.


	5. Farnley Hall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alittlewhos-this asked for: Thomas/Edward, tears. This is another one that grew beyond the one sentence meme; also, in this and some of my other Thomas/Edward ficlets, you can see the start of a semi-coherent AU narrative, although I wouldn't go so far as to say that these are all in one specific verse.

Edward’s the one who tried to kill himself twice, but it’s Thomas who’s bleary-eyed and anxious from the train and the meeting with Major Clarkson to beg for leave that had quickly deteriorated into a confrontation. (Confrontation? More like a shouting match; they’ll never have him back at the hospital now.) Thomas tries not to think about what he’ll do after seeing Edward – once it’ll sink in properly that he’s thrown his life away for a handsome man. He can’t imagine doing  _anything_ other than finding an alley to hide in and burst into tears, if he’s lucky.

One of the maids brings him up to Lieutenant Courtenay’s ward, where Edward is slumped in his bed in the darkest corner. Thomas looks him over, sees the bruising around his neck and shudders, thankful that the girl’s already gone off to tend another patient.

“Lieutenant?”

Edward draws himself up at that and turns his head toward the sound of Thomas’s voice.

“Corporal Barrow?”

Thomas’s heart skips a beat. For the first time since they forced Edward away to Farnley Hall, he thinks there might be a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. Perhaps they can help each other.


	6. Smoke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alittlewhos-this asked for: Thomas/Edward, cigarettes. Canon period AU/Edward's death fix it (but then, so many of these are). References to attempted suicide.

“I hate to think what Major Clarkson will say,” Edward says, his voice very low, because Thomas has only just patched him up and he’s still so weak from blood loss that he’s leaning heavily against Thomas, who is smoking his cigarettes with shaking hands. “I need a smoke myself. Do you mind, Corporal?”


	7. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inadaonfire asked for: Edward/Thomas + Reunion. Another one from back when I was just starting to bend the one sentence rule. References to canon character death and post-canon death.

"Sir?" Thomas asks, baffled to see Edward Courtenay beaming at him as if in welcome, because last he heard it was 1978 and Edward had given him one of his early heartbreaks decades ago, in the middle of the war, by going and dying on him…

…  _Oh._


	8. Coke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sodoumbisulfate asked for: Thomas/Edward, sharing a bottle of pop. Modern AU, for obvious reasons.

They were sitting together in silence, surprisingly chaste silence at that,  until Edward twisted open the can of Coke too quickly, spilling syrupy liquid all over his hands, and Thomas, realizing that this was the perfect opportunity to turn up the heat, put the other man’s hand to his mouth before Edward could protest and began to lick the liquid off.


	9. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alittlewhos-this asked for: Thomas/Edward, comfort. This was part of the one sentence prompt meme but grew to roughly 700 words. References to attempted suicide, WWI.

He hears Edward’s shout in his attic room above Edward’s own. Thomas bolts upright. There’s no hesitating at all; he throws on his dressing gown and runs down the stairs two at a time.

Thomas bursts into the bedroom. Mrs. Courtenay, who didn’t have as far to go, is already beside her son, helpless as always. At least she had the sense to turn on the lamp.

Edward is sobbing. He has his hands raised toward his face, and Thomas sees with a wince that he’s clawing at his eyes as if they were burning.

“Sir,” Thomas says, taking all of this in, “sir, everything’s all right. You’re just dreaming – you’re at home and there’s no danger.”

“He’s right; there’s nothing wrong,” Mrs. Courtenay adds behind Thomas.

Edward gasps. He grows quiet then, awake at last, wrenches his hands from his face, and feels for the bed below him and the familiar carved table beside it.

“Thomas?” he asks.

“Right here, sir,” Thomas says. He doesn’t take Edward’s hand, but presses as close to the other man’s bed as he dares. Mrs. Courtenay is uncomfortable with their closeness. When Edward returned with Thomas in tow as his medic-turned-valet, he said that Thomas had saved his life in the hospital. It was true enough, in its way, and Edward trots out that story whenever someone looks askance at them – but the old lady doesn’t like it anyway.

She’d blame Thomas, not Edward, for the slip-up with the name, even though Thomas never forgets himself about things like that. It’s one of the perils of living here.

“Are you all right?” Mrs. Courtenay asks in that dramatic whisper that makes Thomas want to clench his jaw or his fist.

A moment passes with no sound but Edward’s laboured breathing. Thomas can see the sheen of sweat on his face and the reddening of his cheeks in the lamplight. Then Edward nods.

“Yes, mother,” he replies, sounding  _almost_  like himself. “I’m sorry. You should go back to bed. I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

“But if you – ”

“Barrow will look after me,” Edward adds, his tone firm now.

Even with his back to her, Thomas can  _feel_  Mrs. Courtenay glaring at him. But she murmurs that Edward need only ask if he wants her and stands up to leave, slow and hesitating.

Edward stretches out his hand toward Thomas. His upturned hand strains, searching, in the little gap between the bed and the table. Thomas can’t help remembering the night he found Edward in his cot in the hospital, looking very much like he does now with his hair mussed and his pajamas dishevelled, and letting blood drip from his wrist to the floor. The memory still sends a shudder through Thomas.

“I trust we’re alone?” Edward asks as his fingers find Thomas’s. Thomas squeezes his hand.

“Yeah,” he answers. “You heard your mother leave, and none of the maids would dare come in over a thing like this.”

Edward sighs. “I must seem ridiculous, don’t I? If you heard me screaming in your attic…”

“It’s nothing,” Thomas says, as comforting as he can be. “I’ve had plenty of bad dreams myself.”

“Well, that’s true. I was sleeping beside you during some of them.”

There is, of course, no need to ask what the nightmares are  _about_. Thomas smiles a sad, small smile and leans forward to kiss Edward’s cheek.

“Should I get you anything?” he asks when he draws back. “A drink or something?”

“No,” Edward says, shaking his head. “But you can lie down for a bit.”

It’s risky, but Thomas doesn’t care. They have so few chances to be together like this. Seeing Edward every day is better than nothing but – well – it’s not quite  _enough_ , either. So he’s only too glad to stretch out beside Edward on the bed and wrap the other man in his arms.

Edward gives a half-laugh, from nerves no doubt, and kisses Thomas’s lips, clumsily, first touching the side of his mouth.

“Thanks,” he says.

Thomas grins. “What for?”

“You know what for.”

“Well, you do the same for me,” Thomas says, kissing Edward again. “Goodnight.”


	10. They Laughed at his Long Black Hair, his Animal Grace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tiesandtea asked for: Thomas/Edward. 70s. eyeliner. David Bowie. The title of this drabble, of course, comes from David Bowie's Lady Stardust and has little to nothing to do with the piece - but I love that song and we can all picture Thomas as a teen boy in the seventies with long black hair.

Thomas laughs as Edward jerks away from him and his eyeliner pencil before Thomas can grab him back. They’re so close Thomas can just picture himself pulling Edward onto his bed and shagging him right now, while his mum and dad are still minding the jewelry shop below.

“My parents would kill me,” Edward says. He means the makeup because he’s shy like that and would do anything to act normal and make his family approve of him even when they blatantly favour his brother.

Thomas shrugs. “Fuck ‘em and stand up for yourself. Anyway, it’s just a concert.”

 Edward leans toward him, slowly, hesitating.

“I know what I’m doing,” Thomas adds.

“It’s not that,” Edward says, and presses a quick kiss to Thomas’s cheek.


End file.
